


When it Rains it Pours

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Giles and Spike are having a bit of fun role-play when Angel shows up.





	When it Rains it Pours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [philstar22](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=philstar22).



> This is for **philstar22** who asked:  
>  _Can I challenge hello-Spikey to a fic with Spike and either Giles or Angel (or both if you can manage :) ). I'd love a fic that featured sub or bottom!Spike and either Rainy day or shower sex. And maybe a bit of exhibitionism because Spike totally can't help it. :)_
> 
> This is late, but I hope I can make it up to you with a fic that has Spike/Angel, Spike/Giles, a rainy day AND exhibitionism! (because Spike totally can't help it.)
> 
> Giles and Spike are in an established relationship, but there's some questionable con. :D

Everyone was getting up, stretching, preparing to head their separate ways after the weekly slay-team meeting at the Magic Box. When Giles walked past Spike he ducked his head casually and said, “Midnight, the alleyway behind The Bronze. Dress cheap.”

Spike felt a thrill travel all the way down his spine at the gentle puff of warm breath against his cheek and the content of those words. It was astounding how Giles could so calmly and quietly instruct him within sight and hearing of his young charges. His absolute confidence made Spike’s cock stand up and salute.

Xander was joking with Buffy by the empty donut box, Willow was gathering up her books and trying to ignore Anya’s questions about bridesmaid dresses. Spike felt like he was standing naked, but no one noticed. He shivered and turned to leave before anyone saw the dumbstruck look on his face.

It was just after ten. He had a little over an hour to decide what “dress cheap” meant and get himself to the alleyway. Outside the trees were tossing in the wind, the dark sky tasting of coming rain, a tempest of anticipation that reflected his mood.

When he was far enough away that he couldn’t see the Magic Box anymore, he broke into a run.

Spike rushed through all his preparations and yet it was nearly midnight when he finished dressing. He’d decided to go shirtless after taking the same three shirts on and off over and over. He put on a short motorcycle jacket and a dog collar, his tightest jeans, which had a rip under the hip pocket, but that was more feature than flaw considering what he was going for. Lastly, he did up his eyes for the first time in months, going heavy on the liner.

The jeans ripped more as he ran to the alleyway, both afraid and eager to see what would happen if Giles decided he was too late.

The rain started almost as soon as he was outside, a drop here and there hitting him like tears, but by the time he was jogging down the main street, the heavens opened, sending a hard rain down like a curtain. Spike was instantly soaked, his feet splashing with each step. So much for the time he’d spent fussing with his hair. He turned a corner blindly, blinking against the downpour, and slammed straight into someone.

“Sorry, I…” a big hand grabbed his elbow to keep him from falling, echoing the same words as they both looked away from each other.

Then the hand tightened. “Spike?”

Spike felt a cold bolt run down his spine at the familiar voice. Sure enough it was Angel holding his arm with a death-grip, his gelled hair all gone down in points from the rain.

Angel let go of him and stepped back, looking up and down. “Why are you dressed like a street walker?”

Spike put a hand on his hip, then realized that didn’t help the image, flaring his coat out over his bare body. He switched to crossing his arms and scowling. “It happens I have a date.”

“With who? Axl Rose?”

Spike scowled and started to make a come-back, when he saw Giles’ red sports car pulling up to the end of the alley. “Fuck.” He looked for a place to hide, realized “behind Angel” wasn’t an option and then shoved the big vampire. “Bugger off, already. What, you’ll stand in the rain all night to question my sodding clothes?”

Angel continued to stand there like a lump and gape at him while Spike tried to push him out of the alleyway, away from him, or just away. The car was creeping down the alley now and Spike began to panic.

Angel grabbed Spike by the open front of his jacket and slammed him into the wall. “Stop shoving me.”

That, of course, would be when Giles pulled up alongside them and rolled down his window. Spike rolled his eyes heavenward and mentally asked why the powers-that-be had it out for him.

The rain had slowed and so they both clearly heard Giles, though he did not raise his voice, say, “I was going to pick you up, but it appears you already have a customer.”

Angel’s jaw dropped as he looked from Giles to Spike and back.

“Stake me,” Spike sighed.

Giles turned fully to face the window, his arm up on the steering wheel, and was obviously very amused. “By all means, continue. I can wait.”

Angel hadn’t let go of Spike, but let up the pressure against him as he continued to look back and forth. “You… you’re turning tricks?”

Angel looked genuinely hurt. Spike almost smiled, knowing that the truth wasn’t going to make him feel better. “No, you idiot. It’s just a bit of…” Spike wriggled in embarrassment, finally spitting out, “role-play.”

“I’m not playing,” Giles replied immediately. “And if you don’t start soon I’ll get bored and drive away.”

Fuck. Any minute now, Angel was going to stomp away or Giles would leave and either way, Spike’s odds of getting laid were rapidly approaching nil. He looked pleadingly at Giles, but Angel got in the way. He pressed Spike against the wall with one hand on his chest, turned to face Giles and exchanging god knew what looks.

Then, just as Spike was trying to slink away, Angel turned back to him, gathering up fistfuls of wet leather and growling, low and animalistic. His fangs were out and spittle flecked Spike’s cheek as he said, obviously not caring if Giles could hear, “So you’ve been letting a human fuck you?”

A shiver sped through Spike’s frame. “It’s not… there’s this chip…” Slowly, he remembered that he wasn’t in the wrong, here. He got his hands between them and pushed Angel off. “What the hell do you care? Piss off!”

“You lying little shit!” Angel swung at him.

Spike blinked away stars and confusion and slugged Angel square in his jaw. Angel then tackled him, and the useless motorcycle jacket rucked up against the pavement and Spike had to struggle out of it to fight Angel off.

“Spike, come here.”

Giles hadn’t raised his voice, but somehow, over the rain and the smack of fists and panting breaths, Spike heard him crystal clear. Angel pushed off of him, expression unreadable.

Spike had to roll to his knees to get up, and he saw Giles watching him with cold anger.

Spike licked rain and blood off his lower lip and sauntered up to the car window. “Look, I’ll get rid of this tosser and…”

“I gave you a task, and you haven’t done it. I’m losing my patience, William.”

Spike snuck a look back at Angel, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t heard Giles use his given name. Ducking into the car window, he whispered. “You said dress cheap and…”

Giles slapped him. Hard. But he pain didn’t burn as much as the humiliation. Spike worked his jaw angrily.

“Now that you’ve finished talking back,” Giles said, “get to work.”

Spike wondered what he could mean by that. He glanced back at Angel, who had a slow smile growing. “Wait… you can’t mean?” Spike jerked a thumb back at Angel.

Now Giles had a smile, too. “You know I like to watch.”

Spike clung to the car door. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Rupert, he’s been hot for my arse since it wasn’t even cold yet.”

“Then he won’t mind playing along,” Giles said, clearly not caring, either way.

Angel looked smug. He dropped Spike’s jacket, which he’d somehow ended up holding, and took up a waiting posture against the alley wall.

Spike was suddenly very aware of how little he was wearing. The rain made his jeans cling tightly to him and he felt them pull as he took a reluctant step toward Angel. “You don’t have to do this. You and Giles hate each other.”

Angel lifted one shoulder. “I’m not touching him.”

This was a test. It had to be. But what kind? Spike looked back to Giles one more time, but there was no change there, and no reprieve. He walked up to Angel, feeling a little sick, but also a little turned on.

Angel grabbed him and hauled him close, and as Spike stopped himself from fighting back, Angel’s grin turned nasty. His fingers dug under the curves of Spike’s ass, tearing his jeans further as he pulled their hips together.

“Yes, that’s more like it,” Giles said.

Angel was hard, not surprising, and up close he could smell the heady musk of his arousal over the pervasive rain, like the heat of friction eating into his soaked denim. Angel leaned in for a kiss.

Spike turned his cheek and spoke rapidly. “Look, this is awkward as fuck, but is there any chance you won’t hold this over me for sodding ever?”

Angel grabbed his chin. “Not really,” he said, and held his jaw while he pressed his open mouth over Spike’s closed one. He growled in annoyance and bit Spike’s lower lip, fingers digging in until Spike had to open his mouth.

Rainwater mixed with the taste of Angel’s tongue, rough and filling his mouth. Spike turned away again and got backhanded.

“Play your part,” Angel said, when Spike turned back with a clenched fist raised.

With an effort, Spike lowered his fist. “Maybe that is my part.” He raised his chin. “How about some money, then?”

Angel opened his wallet, took out a few bills, crumpled them and dropped them on the muddy ground. “Strip.”

The cold was beginning to seep into Spike’s flesh, but he held his head high. They might be trying to make him feel worthless, but he knew one thing – they were both there because of him. He kicked off his boots and struggled with his fly, which was swollen and tight.

It wasn’t the most graceful job he’d ever done wriggling out of tight jeans – and he had plenty of experience, but he enjoyed watching the two sets of eyes riveted to him as he stripped off confidently, right there in an alleyway where drunken teenagers could stumble by at any moment.

Because he knew they both wanted them. He kicked his jeans away like he was hitting Angel in the gut. By the way Angel leaned forward, maybe he had.

Spike stretched, bending his head back to catch the rain on his face. He imagined the picture he made in just the dog-collar and jewelry. He ran his hand down his side, flicking droplets off his hip. Angel’s tongue showed, just a bit, against his lower lip as he gaped hungrily. Spike couldn’t tell if Giles looked approving or furious, but his face was hard and calculating in the shadows of the car. Was he really going to let someone else fuck him?

Never let it be said that Spike turned down a game of chicken. He raised his chin and sauntered up to Angel. There was hardly any sound but the rain as he crossed the pavement on bare feet. He stroked down the slick surface of Angel’s leather coat and then palmed his cock through his rough wool slacks.

Angel gripped his wrist hard enough to grind the bones together. “I’m not surprised to find you whoring yourself out.”

Angel wasn’t joking, or playing along. Spike jerked back, but Angel had been expecting that and followed the movement, nearly over-balancing Spike as he turned and slammed him, now naked, into the brick wall.

“He always was eager to please,” Angel called back to Giles. “A slut for attention.” Without warning Angel’s blunt thumb jabbed painfully into Spike’s ass, causing Spike to rise up against the wall. He could feel Angel chuckle against his back, amused with his reaction as he struggled between the intrusion and the danger of scraping his cock on dirty brick.

“It’s not like that,” Spike spat over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I can see the love and mutual respect from here,” Angel purred, jamming a second finger in.

Spike tried to gain leverage to turn around. His shoulder ground against the wall, adding the fresh taint of blood to the air. Angel growled and slammed him so his forehead smacked the brick.

“I changed my mind,” Spike shouted, “I don’t want to do this.”

Neither of them bothered to make a response. Spike couldn’t see Giles as he fought against Angel and the sounds of slapping flesh and grunts punctuated their struggles. Angel had the advantage, he already had Spike against the wall, and naked, and his hand was up his ass. But that wasn’t why Spike stopped struggling.

Angel was right to mock the possibility of any love between them, but Spike had thought… well, he thought they had respect, or fondness, or something. It was all a game, wasn’t it? The rough words and rougher hands?

Spike froze a bit, and that was all it took. Angel dug his elbow into Spike’s kidneys as he undid his fly. Spike had a few seconds to try and relax before Angel was forcing his way in, scrambling for purchase on Spike’s rain-slicked hips and grinding against friction and cursing as he had to re-set himself, his cock bending against the pressure.

But friction only held out so long, and blood eased the way. Spike rested his forehead on the brick and let it happen. Worse, he pressed back to make it easier.

He felt empty. He gave up, and he knew it, and that galled him and made him clench his muscles and ball his fist against the wall, but that was all. He pressed back and raised his hips, trying to get friction where he wanted it. Angel didn’t stop him, he was fucking hard and impersonally, like you’d fuck a whore, not caring one way or the other what Spike felt. Spike didn’t mind; it was honest.

His body was well used to Angel’s, and once the pain had mostly subsided, it was pretty good – Angel’s huge cock couldn’t help but hit his prostrate – it hit everything. And Spike was soon writhing eagerly, fisting his cock, chasing his own pleasure as fast and hard as he could, as honestly as Angel did, because he knew if he failed to reach the finish line first…

Angel groaned, long and low, slamming their hips tight as his cock pulsed cum. Spike wriggled frantically, so close, but Angel only held on for a second of afterglow before pulling roughly out. Spike strained after him, though he was ashamed to do so, lost in the sensation. Angel placed a gentle kiss on his nape, and then shoved him over. Spike’s hip hit the pavement with a crack and cold puddle water doused him.

He still had his hand on his flagging erection as Angel re-fastened his flies over him.

Angel turned to wave to Giles. “Thanks,” he said, and walked away.

Spike felt used and discarded. His nape prickled from that one, gentle kiss, and he wondered what that had been about – just to play with his mind?

A crumpled twenty dollar bill floated across the puddle next to him.

“Well,” Giles said, impatiently. Spike looked up, having almost forgotten he was there. “Are you going to get in the car or sit there in the rain all night?”

Spike snatched up his boots and his sodden jacket. He turned around, looking for his jeans, but then decided they weren’t worth it. He stomped up to the car and looked down at Giles, who was definitely amused now.

Giles pursed his lips as Spike dripped on him. “Come along, dear boy. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Why did you do that?” Giles started to speak. Spike jabbed his hand holding his boots in the direction Angel had been. “Why did you let him do that?”

Giles tilted his head back. “I wanted you to learn something. Now get in the car this instant or your lesson will include walking home.”

Spike pointed again, opened and closed his mouth, then sighed and stomped over to the passenger door.

The inside of the car was wonderfully warm and dry. Spike started shaking as he felt the heat return to his body.

Giles took the sopping boots and jacket from his hands and tossed them in the (mostly decorative) back seat. Then he took off his suit jacket and handed it to Spike, who took it gratefully, wrapping himself in rough tweed and the scent of Giles.

Giles looked at him a moment almost sadly, then turned to start the car. The sound of the windshield wipers coming on startled Spike out of a reverie and he watched Giles calmly driving them out of the alleyway.

“Why?” he asked again.

“Did you learn anything?”

Spike stared at Giles, at his relaxed posture, his unconcern, and gripped the suit-jacket tighter around himself. “I really don’t get you, mate.”

Giles smiled. “Good,” he said.


End file.
